The Dragon's Flame
by InstaCritter
Summary: Iroh is living happily as Mushi the teahouse owner one year after the end of the Hundred Year War. One night after closing up shop, he must serve one last customer: a young Water Tribe healer with a major Fire Nation grudge. Romance ensues. Iroh x OC. Chp 3 up 9/14/12! M Rating for blood.
1. Chapter 1

_Obligatory legal disclaimer: __Avatar: The Last Airbender__ is __copyright__Michael Dante DiMartino, __Bryan Konietzko, and Nickelodeon. I do not make money from this story; it is written purely out of love for the series._

**Author's notes:**

05/25/2012:

I only recently discovered Avatar: The Last Airbender. I haven't been driven to write fanfiction in almost eight years. The character Iroh inspired in me an irresistible urge to create a self-insert (read: Mary-Sue) character and begin this story.

I just want to know if this is worth continuing. I've had a very difficult time finding fics where Iroh gets the girl. The best one I've found, _The Walls of June _by JimisLittleWing, is explicit PWP and, while certainly worth a read for those of legal age, is not for everyone.

While I'm not 100% sure where this story is going, I'm having fun writing it. I would appreciate a review hugely; tell me what you liked, what you hated...heck, just be blunt! Tell me if it's boring you to death! Be brutal! I promise I won't get mad. I want to write a good story, even if I have to scrap this thing altogether. (And yes, the horrible pun-title is subject to revision.)

Please note, this story is written with me having only watched the _Avatar: The Last Airbender _series; I have not read _The Promise_ or watched _Legend of Korra_. This makes it slightly AU.

Thank you very much.

* * *

_**The Dragon's Flame**_

One year after his brother's defeat at the hands of Avatar Aang, Iroh stood proudly in his beloved tea shop. The Jasmine Dragon was at full operating capacity once again, as if Ba Sing Se had never been occupied by Fire Nation forces. Customers spilled out onto the terrace, some forced to drink their tea while standing.

"I will have to mention my idea for a second shop to Quon the next time I see him," Iroh thought, stroking his beard contentedly.

"Master Mushi, table seven wanted to speak with you," reported one of Iroh's young servers.

"Ah, thank you, Jang," Iroh replied, setting his eyes on the four well-dressed patrons who sought his company. The two women smiled and waved him over, their male companions nodding at some unheard previous agreement. He smiled genially and made his way to them.

* * *

Iroh had sent his staff home for the night; all that was left to do was to sweep. He found he enjoyed the chore—it was monotonous and repetitive and allowed him time to think clearly. His thoughts drifted to the wealthy patrons from earlier that night. They had offered him twice the money he was earning now to leave the Jasmine Dragon and take over their utterly mediocre establishment, Pearl Tea House. It was really no contest, though. Pearl Tea House was the pet project of the women and they wouldn't allow him to change the name, décor, or...anything, really. It wouldn't be his tea shop; he'd just be working there. Not exactly a dream come true, like this place had been.

Iroh smiled. This really was where he was meant to be.

"Hello?" a hesitant voice called. "Are you still open? I saw your lights were still lit and I was hoping..."

Iroh straightened up and set his broom to the side. One last customer to satisfy before he could turn in for the night. He turned, pulling the kitchen divider curtain aside, and strode into the dining area. Standing halfway through the front entrance, seemingly afraid to set both feet inside, stood a dark-skinned young woman. Her eyes darted to him as he spoke.

"Please, please, come in! I have a kettle on to boil for my own bedtime tea; won't you join me for a cup and a chat?"

The young woman visibly relaxed, relieved that she was welcome so late at night. "Oh, thank you, that would be wonderful," she said, stepping inside and bowing with respect.

Iroh returned the gesture and motioned for her to follow. "What brings you out so late, young stranger?"

"Well, I won't go into too many details, but suffice it to say, my last job left me nauseous and wired. I could really use a cup of my mother's crowberry tea to sleep...I know that it doesn't grow here, but I was hoping you might have a suggestion...," she pleaded, her eyes weary but wide.

"Ah, I have just the thing!" Iroh clapped his hands together. "Mint tea. Excellent for stress and upset stomachs. Come, please sit." He motioned to a cozy table near the kitchen entrance. The young woman gratefully obliged.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is Luka. What may I call you, kind tea master?" She looked directly into her host's amber eyes. It was an accident; the imagined confrontation made her blush and avert her gaze.

Iroh noticed her unsure look and smiled, blinking slowly. "I am Mushi, owner of the Jasmine Dragon. Though I quite like 'tea master,' I must say." He chuckled. "It is a pleasure to have your company tonight, Luka. Excuse me."

He disappeared behind the white curtains, leaving Luka to shift in her chair. What a kind man, she thought. He's comforting, like he would accept you no matter who you were. Handsome, too, for a man his age. He really reminds me of...

She stopped herself. No, not tonight. No blubbering to strangers about the past. No need to test this man's patience any further. She picked a pink flower out of the bud vase decorating the table, sniffing eagerly.

In the kitchen, Iroh covertly heated a kettle with his bending; he had lied about having a kettle on to boil. This way allowed him to quickly heat the water and proceed to steeping the mint leaves. This would not take too long. He heard a sneeze, and decided to investigate.

When he pulled back the curtain, an embarrassed-looking Luka held what was left of the pink flower—only two petals remained, and the rest were still in the process of floating to the floor.

"Um, I'm sorry, I'll pay for that," she said, scrambling to pick up each petal and to clean up her mess.

Iroh laughed a deep belly laugh. "It is quite all right." He bent over to assist the cleaning effort, but as he lifted his head, he found himself face-to-face with Luka. They were so close, he could smell the light perfume of her hair. He met her deep blue eyes, inducing her blush reflex. He pulled away and stood. "I must go check on our tea." A tinge of regret in his voice, he disappeared again.

Such a lovely young woman, so full of life, he thought. To be young again...

He fought back the heavy feeling in his chest and strained the mint tea into two porcelain cups, placing them upon a small decorative tray. He pulled the curtain aside and joined his guest at the table.

"It smells amazing," Luka said approvingly, breathing in deeply.

Iroh placed a cup in front of her. "I assure you, it tastes even better." Holding his cup with both hands, he lifted it to his mouth and sipped gently. Luka followed his lead, peering at him. She looked away when he noticed her curious glance.

"So what brings you to Ba Sing Se, Luka? If I am not mistaken, you are very far from home." Iroh motioned to her fur-lined animal skin bag adorned with a Water Tribe insignia.

Luka lowered her cup and looked at the floor. "Yes. I come from the Northern Water Tribe. I heard Ba Sing Se was running short on doctors...I came to offer my services as a healer. It's been very steady work. Not always fun, but...plentiful." She took another sip. "I was tending a family's young son tonight. Horrible arm fracture...bone sticking through the skin...lots of blood..."

It appeared to Iroh that Luka had turned a bit green as she paused for another sip, this one bigger than her last.

"I have heard of the Water Tribe's excellent healing abilities," he said, "but I did not know you could reset bone with them!"

"Oh, I can't." She shuddered gravely. "That takes good, old-fashioned elbow grease—the doctor's, that is. Dr. Lin pushed the bones back into place, and I healed the tissue damage. That poor little boy. He's much better now, but his father had to hold him down while Dr. Lin worked her magic. It's as if she can see through flesh. His arm healed perfectly." Luka smiled and raised her cup to her lips.

Iroh nodded. "That is excellent news. I witnessed a great many open fractures during my days in the army. Our doctors could reset the bone, but the wounds had to heal on their own. Without a healer, many of the men succumbed to infection and blood loss. Those were dark days."

Luka went silent, and was staring into the teacup resting in her lap. When Iroh realized he'd misspoken, he placed a warm, gentle hand on hers. "I am sorry to bring up bad memories."

"It's okay," she said softly, grasping his hand firmly, appreciating the comfort. "It's more anger than anything. The damn Fire Nation..."

A wave of guilt washed over Iroh. He squeezed Luka's hand and pulled away. "The Fire Nation took much from so many people."

"Yeah. I know the new Fire Lord is supposed to be a 'good guy' and all, but how can we ever trust him? You know what they say, like father, like son. I never met a Knotter I liked." Luka spat out the word 'Knotter' as if it had tasted bad, and Iroh recognized it as a pejorative term for people of the Fire Nation, referring to their traditional hairstyles.

He looked sad and averted his eyes from hers. "The new Fire Lord will have to mend many fences to make up for the lives his father shattered."

"Damn right," Luka muttered darkly. She forced a smile and took a breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ruin this pleasant evening with talk of Fire Nation trash."

Iroh coughed involuntarily.

"How long have you owned the Jasmine Dragon, Master Mushi? It's a beautiful place. And the tea! If my mother heard me say this, she'd kill me, but...it's the best I've ever had." Luka smiled at the old man, raised her cup to her lips, and peered at him over its rim.

"Oh, about a year, I would say," he answered, meeting her eyes. "But please, just 'Mushi' is fine."

Luka's courage gave out and she looked away, nodding and smiling. "Well, Mushi, what leads an army man to open a tea house?"

He smiled, scratched his chin, and looked thoughtful. "So few have experienced the joy of properly steeped jasmine blossoms. Tea is an art which is very difficult to master, but I have found that it...is my one true love. I want to share my love with all of Ba Sing Se!"

Luka grinned. "Well, I'm glad you decided to share your love with me tonight." She gave him a meaningful look and immediately regretted it. She chided herself—did I just flirt with him?!

He laughed deeply. "Anytime, my lovely little stranger." He winked at her and finished his cup.

Did he just flirt back?! Luka blushed, still bearing a stupid, shy grin.

"May I refill your cup?" Iroh stood and put out his hand.

Flustered, Luka shook her head and stood. "I wish I could stay, but I really must be going." She reached for her coin purse, but Iroh held up his hand.

"Your company tonight was worth more than any coin. Please, come back sometime, won't you?" His kind eyes met hers again.

"Count on it," she promised, picking up her bag. "Goodnight, Mushi."

"Goodnight, Luka."

She turned and walked to the door, opening it slowly. She hesitated, wishing she hadn't just freaked out. She was_ enjoying_ talking to this man. Why did she make herself leave so soon?

"Oh, Luka, you dropped something," Iroh called, bending over to pick up a small hand-carved piece of jewelry. He recognized it as a Water Tribe betrothal necklace, and suddenly, inexplicably, felt very disappointed. "Your necklace."

A frown streaked across her face momentarily. She walked to him and closed her palm on the necklace, letting her fist linger in his hand. "Thank you." She put the necklace in her pocket and looked at her feet. She resisted the urge to fall onto his chest like a damsel in distress, and then raised her head. "Goodnight."

She opened the door and walked through it, letting it close behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

_05/31/12_

_Short chapter this time. Chapter 3 coming soon._

_Content warning:_

_Lots of blood, difficult birth. Please proceed cautiously._

* * *

**The Dragon's Flame, Chapter 2**

Iroh lay on his feather-stuffed mat in the dark, a small candle burning on the short table beside him. He put his hands behind his head, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

His mind set upon the moment he was face-to-face with Luka. Her surprised expression was soft with the rounded curves of her cheeks and wide-open eyes. She was blushing. Her lips were parted, a tiny gasp escaping. It seemed so familiar.

In his mind's eye, the young woman's features began to morph: her skin lightened in color, her nose became smaller, her eyes narrowed. The same expression lingered though, complete with a rosy blush. He recognized this old memory, even if it was from a lifetime ago.

"_Yanmei." The pale, pretty face in his thoughts smiled. Yanmei took his hand, and playfully led him behind a cherrywillow tree's long, flowing branches. The pink blossoms had just begun to shed and fall, and each breeze carried more through the air. It was here they shared their first kiss, he and the woman who would become his wife._

It had been so long since he had thought of her.

The story continued to play in his head, so sweet and irresistible, even though he knew how it would end. He knew he should stop himself, but he couldn't.

_It was a year after their kiss. Yanmei was beaming at him excitedly. She threw her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "I'm going to have a baby." They had both laughed and cried then, their happiness overwhelming. In the midst of endless war, a new life...their own child!_

"Stop, Iroh," he muttered to himself, jerking himself back to the present. "You do not want to do this to yourself."

But the memories paid no heed to this warning, fighting their way to the front of his mind.

_So much blood._

_It seemed like more than he'd ever seen on the battlefield._

_Yanmei was paler than she had ever been before. The rosy glow of her cheeks had drained, and she looked like a ghost. She fought to keep her eyes open as the midwife rubbed her belly intently. "Baby...Iroh...baby?" She looked into Iroh's tear-filled eyes, pleading with him for good news._

"_He is going to be fine, Yanmei. I promise." He attempted to smile reassuringly, the corners of his mouth trembling. He felt so helpless._

"_A...boy?" Yanmei's eyes brightened momentarily. Then, a small, weak cry rang out—it was so quiet, yet nothing had ever caught Iroh's attention so quickly._

"_He's breathing. He's turning pink. Ling, take him. Suction his airways. Have the fragments passed?" The doctor rose quickly to his feet, passing the midwife as they switched places._

"_No, doctor. No contraction yet." The midwife dutifully attended the blue-tinged babe as the doctor briskly gathered his tools._

_Iroh cried out. His wife had slipped from consciousness, her eyes rolling back. "Yanmei! Yanmei! Please open your eyes! Please! The baby is breathing!" He held her hand tightly, his hair wild, his face soaked with tears. He turned viciously to the doctor. "Save her! Why can you not save her?"_

_The doctor looked at the crown prince desperately. "My lord. I must try to manually remove the placenta."_

"_Do it! Whatever it takes! Save my wife!" Iroh was screaming now, his eyes ablaze._

_The doctor nodded and plunged his hand inside the Fire Nation princess._

Iroh came back to reality. He was weeping, his cheeks and nose wet, his lips salty and glistening. He covered his face with his hand, moaning gutturally. "My beautiful Yanmei. Please..." He didn't want to see it again.

_He didn't want to see that moment when blood spilled out of his beloved, gushing as a dammed river suddenly freed. The doctor, covered in red. Yanmei's last gasp. No sound. Only her eyes as their spark faded and they turned to black, her labored breaths ceasing._

_The doctor pulled his arm back, stood, and walked to her side. He placed two fingers of his clean hand on her neck, pulling away after a few seconds._

"_My lord...she's gone." The doctor closed her eyelids gently._

_Iroh was struck silent and still. He trembled, still holding her hand. It was limp, lifeless, cold._

_Suddenly, a lusty cry broke the silence._

In the dark room above the Jasmine Dragon, a different cry echoed off the walls. From deep in his chest, Iroh sobbed until he was spent. The candle burned down to nothing, finally disappearing and leaving the room in pitch black.

That night he dreamed of nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

09/14/2012

I want to sincerely apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I hit a nasty spot of writer's block! Dialogue is way harder to write than I realized. I think this came out pretty well, though, and I'm looking forward to continuing the story. I will probably be working in events from The Promise trilogy, so keep a look out for that. Thank you to all my reviewers; you gave me the strength to continue when I was wanting to give up. I hope this will be worth the wait.

-Donna (Instacritter)

**The Dragon's Flame, Chapter 3**

Luka had risen earlier than usual. She yawned, her eyes tearing as her jaw stretched. "Man," she mumbled to herself, "I can't believe how many people are awake at this hour." In truth, it was almost seven o'clock and the sun was already shining, but for Luka, it may as well have been three in the morning.

She trudged through the streets, passing splendidly-dressed upper-ring shoppers going about their morning business. She looked out of place, her furs and leather clashing with their silks and linens. She had been living in Ba Sing Se for almost a year now, but she didn't think she'd ever feel at home. It was so _hot_ here. There were so many people. _Weird_ people. They placed so much value in expensive fabrics and trinkets and dishes. And they talked funny!

Despite it all, she had made the long commute from her tiny apartment in the lower ring for a purely voluntary reason: she wanted to see Mushi again. After a couple days, she had finally thought of an excuse to stop by. He had been the first person in the city to make her feel at ease, and she was curious about him. He went on about tea, but there must be so much more to him. She thought she'd like to hear the army stories he no doubt could tell, especially if they involved skewering a few Knotters.

She smirked.

She knew the Jasmine Dragon opened at nine o'clock; it was the traditional mid-morning tea-time in Ba Sing Se. She hoped she wasn't too early. Surely he'd be up by now, readying the tea house for customers. "I hope he's not too busy..." She tightened her grip on her backpack's straps, lurching forward to reposition its contents more comfortably.

She was nearing the Jasmine Dragon. It struck her as very strange to see the teahouse so devoid of human activity; usually it was bustling with patrons. She noted a column of smoke coming out of the back of the building—good, he was up, and had a fire going. She climbed the steps to the terrace and passed the koi pond, shrugging off a vague feeling of homesickness when she glimpsed a black fish and a white fish swimming together. It had been a long time since she'd been to the Spirit Oasis...

As she approached the front door, Luka's thoughts were racing. She could still turn back now. What if he didn't remember her? What if he thought her very odd to stop by so early in the morning, completely unannounced? What if he was married and his wife gave her the third degree?

She took a deep breath and tried to gather herself. I'm just here to thank him for the tea, and to return the favor, she thought. There's no way he's ever tried burdock root tea. He'll thank me for introducing him to something new! Yeah, yeah, that's it.

A final burst of courage enabled her to raise her arm and knock on the door. She felt dizzy with the rush of nervous adrenaline as she prepared for the door to open and for being face-to-face with Mushi again.

Minutes passed.

She blinked, at the same time relieved and disappointed. The tall wooden doors were quite thick, she remembered. Maybe he hadn't heard. She knocked again, a little harder this time.

Still no answer.

Determined, Luka rounded the left corner of the building and faced a circular arch that led to the back garden. She hesitantly walked under it and toward the back of the teahouse.

Her nose met with a fragrant breeze, and she realized it was the smell of Mushi's many tea plants. Mint, jasmine, lemongrass, ginseng...he had everything! Everything, she thought smiling, except burdock root.

To her right, she noticed a narrow flight of wooden stairs leading up to a small landing and a door. Maybe he was in the back of the building? She ascended the stairs and gathered her courage again, knocking three times.

A familiar voice from within shouted. "Just a moment!" She thought she heard water sloshing, and then the creak of floorboards as a person neared the door. The knob turned, and she held her breath.

Standing before her, wearing only a towel around his waist, stood the man she knew as Mushi. His hair and beard were dripping wet, and his skin appeared to steaming. His surprisingly muscular arms and chest were covered in a smattering of coarse gray hair.

Luka's face immediately turned red and she was struck speechless, her mouth opened halfway to speak words that would not come. Iroh's expression changed from blank to surprised as he realized the situation.

"Er! Um, I am sorry, please excuse me." Iroh slammed the door shut, leaving Luka motionless and in mild shock.

Inside, she heard more creaky floorboards that snapped her out of her stupor. She frowned. Well, she had worried that he would think her strange, but she hadn't expected him to slam the door in her face. Of course, she hadn't expected to be confronted with his bare chest, still hot and wet from the bath, either. Maybe he was coming back?

A few minutes later, she had almost given up hope. She turned to descend the stairs, sighing dejectedly. Just then, the door opened again, and she felt her heart leap. The kind old master stood there, wearing a soft green robe, his hair hastily dried, brushed, and pulled back into a ponytail.

"Hello again, my friend. I apologize for my indecency a moment ago," Iroh said, smiling. "I was expecting someone else."

"Ah! That's okay! I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I can come back another time, if you want?" Luka's face felt hot as she motioned for the stairs, now in full escape mode—as if she'd forgotten she wanted to be there.

"Nonsense! What can I do for you, Miss Luka? Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" Iroh stepped aside and held out his arm in a welcoming gesture.

She felt a little thrill when he spoke her name. He remembers me! she thought giddily, her face relaxing into a pleased smile. "Yes! Well, I thought...I thought you might like to try some of this." She pulled her backpack to the front and knelt down to dig into its pockets. She pulled out a small drawstring bag and opened it, then stood to offer him a peek. "It's burdock root. My tribe uses it to make a traditional breakfast tea."

Iroh took the bag and sniffed it thoughtfully. He met her gaze and smiled. "Ah, it has been many years since I have had burdock root tea. What a treat! I have a kettle on the stove now. Come in, come in!"

A little shocked that he recognized her gift, Luka picked up her bag and followed her host through the door. She shut it softly behind her and took in her surroundings. The older man's apartment was modest, but comfortable. To her right, a feather-stuffed mat was covered neatly with a patchwork blanket. To her left, a bamboo table and two chairs were washed in sunlight from the open window. About fifteen feet in front of her, a beautifully painted wooden room divider blocked what she assumed was his bathtub. And in the back left corner, Iroh stood near a wood stove, emptying the dried burdock root onto the counter.

"Make yourself comfortable," he suggested gently. "You may sit at the breakfast table, if you would like."

Luka placed her bag on the floor near the table and turned to him. "Thanks...but, you might need some help...burdock root is a bit of a challenge to..."

Iroh interrupted her playfully. "I believe the trick to brewing this particular kind of tea is to remove the tough outer layer, and to steep only the inner root." He confidently split the woody brown layer with a sharp knife, extracting the tender white mass inside. He sliced it thinly and dropped it into the steaming kettle.

Luka blinked, impressed at his knowledge. "That's right." She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes in mock irritation. "It always takes me a few tries to split the root. How did you learn to do that so easily? For that matter...where did you learn to do it at all? Burdock only grows at the North Pole!"

He chuckled, furtively admiring the jutting hips her hands had accentuated. "Time and experience are the best teachers," he replied cryptically, bending to stir the wood in the stove's belly and to cool the flames.

"Right, right. Men always have to be mysterious." Luka rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Iroh put on his best innocent face, standing to face her. "Hardly. I am far too old for that."

"Somehow, I doubt you're too old for anything." She flashed him a mischievous smile.

He raised an eyebrow, appearing at once confused and pleased. He hadn't really thought much about their flirtatious exchange a couple nights ago; he'd chalked it up to amusing word choices and friendly natures. But here she was again, making silly, awkward innuendos and absentmindedly twirling a lock of hair. It was flattering, and fun, even if he knew it wouldn't go anywhere. Pretty girls were often kind to him; he was the nice old man who reminded them of their grandfathers. Come to think of it though...he guessed he did miss his skirt-chasing days in the army.

Luka felt her face get hot as her host's gaze lingered for a couple seconds longer than anticipated. Great, now I've really weirded him out, she thought, shifting her focus to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Iroh snapped out of his train of thought. "Oh, no, no! You have nothing to apologize for. I was just thinking about...something." He looked back at his cabinet. "Are you hungry? I have pickled starpeaches..."

Luka's eyes grew big. "Pickled starpeaches? I love those! I haven't had them in ages..." Regaining her composure, she became a little embarrassed at her own enthusiasm. "Um...are you sure it's okay?"

He had only jokingly offered that particular dish. He had expected her face to recoil in horror, and to laughingly offer her something more generally appetizing. Yanmei had hated pickled starpeaches with a passion and refused kisses when he indulged in them. It had been an endearing trait, one he had somehow expected to be replicated in this young Water Tribe woman. He wasn't sure why it surprised him so much that Luka was fond of the preserved fruit.

Nevertheless, he nodded with a kind smile. "I am happy to have someone to share my breakfast with this morning. Would you care for a slice of toast as well?" He turned to a loaf resting near his right hand, deftly choosing a sharp knife from the collection hanging on the wall.

"Sure," she replied, "that would be great." She paused. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Some minutes later, the two sat at the bamboo table, their backs to the sun-filled window. Iroh blew gently on his tea, savoring the first sip. "Hmm. Yes, as good as I remember."

Luka's face betrayed her curiosity. "So...really, Mushi...how did you learn about burdock tea? It's not something the North Pole really...exports."

Having had a chance to think, to modify his story and sufficiently hide his true identity, Iroh began. "I traveled to the North Pole many years ago, probably before you were even born, my young friend." He turned to her. "It was partly a search for the best tea the world had to offer, but it was also a quest to find myself after the death of my wife."

Luka looked concerned, placing her hand on Iroh's arm. "I'm so sorry."

He smiled, grasping her hand in his. "It was long ago." He let go of her hand, looking away toward the back wall. "Life has a habit of changing the moment we become complacent. But, I have a feeling," he mused, pausing, "that you know all about that."

His amber eyes gazed gently into hers, and she felt a sensation of being naked—as if he could read her thoughts, as if she could hide nothing. It surprised her, and she could think of nothing to do except to gulp down the cup of too-hot tea in front of her.

It was a comfortable silence for a moment. Luka cleared her throat and sat her teacup on the table. "Heh." She thoughtfully scratched her head. "It's a long story. But yeah, I know what you mean." She turned to him, picking up a whole pickled starpeach with her chopsticks. "The starpeaches are great! Did you make them yourself?"

Iroh chuckled and nodded. "Yes. I canned them this past spring." He took a sip of his tea and looked out the window, sitting his teacup precariously close to the edge of the table. "With the beautiful weather we are having lately, I imagine you have been treating many young children for injuries acquired while playing?"

"Yes! The clumsy little brats!" Her gestures became animated. "I mean, how many times do I have to tell them not to climb piles of splinter-ridden crates?! To be careful and not run flailing down a busy street?" Her wild gesticulating, of course, found Iroh's poorly placed teacup. It flew, seemingly of its own volition, into Iroh's lap, causing him to jump with arms out.

Luka let out a high-pitched gasp. "I'm-so-sorry-oh-my-gosh-let-me-help-you-clean-that-up-I'm-so-sorry..." She hopped up, oblivious to Iroh's laughter, righting the side-lying teacup. She held out her right hand, bending the water in the spilled tea up and over, back into its vessel. Her face red, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "I hope I didn't burn you? I can heal you..."

He looked up at her, still chuckling. "No, I am fine. Although I am sure you have had to heal yourself a few times, with that kind of coordination." He looked slyly to the side. "Clumsy brats indeed."

She frowned and playfully thumped him on the shoulder. Their eyes met, his kind smile holding her focus. Her eyes appeared to be searching his face, every line, every hair, every nearly imperceptible scar. She looked away, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Uh...I..." She couldn't understand how this had happened. Sure, he was kind, and a good listener, and completely fascinating, but...he could be her grandfather. And yet...

"Is something troubling you, Luka?" Iroh's voice revealed genuine concern.

"Um, no, I was...just wondering..." She racked her brain trying to think of something to say. She sat and poked at a starpeach with her chopstick, and suddenly it hit her. "I was wondering...what it was like, fighting against the Fire Nation? What did you do?"

"Hmm..." Iroh poured another cup of tea and took it in his hands. "Well, I was proud of fighting for my homeland, my family, our future. I felt my deeds were justified. I took the lives of many men on the battlefield, and I remember the face of each one. It is something...I deeply regret."

"What? Why? I mean, those dirty Knotters attacked my home too...if I knew how to fight...I would have..." Lost for words, she mimed choking an invisible person, gritting her teeth and making a ridiculous face.

He smiled at her, shaking his head. His eyes were sad. "Perhaps. It is easy to forget, out there, that your enemy is human...that he has a name, a family, hopes, and dreams. Especially...when you feel that you are doing what is right."

"But it _was_ right! They stormed into the North Pole...destroyed so much...hurt so many people...our Princess...and they killed my Tuyok...!" She stopped, closing her eyes as tears began to fill them and to spill out over her bottom eyelid. She looked away, embarrassed that she'd let herself fall apart. "Ah...I'm sorry..."

She hadn't noticed him move from his seat to crouch in front of her, and was surprised when he touched her upper arm, looking up at her concernedly. Luka threw her arms around his neck, crying quietly on his shoulder.

Iroh, though a little shocked, embraced her, stroking the back of her head softly. "I am so sorry, Luka." Regret and guilt welled up inside him, though he knew there was little he could have done.

She sniffed a few times, squeezing the older man tightly for a brief moment, then pulling away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Thank you. It's something I haven't spoken to anyone about since...since it happened."

Iroh pulled his chair closer to her and sat in it, facing her. "It sounds like you cared for Tuyok very much."

Luka smiled, her eyes sad. "Yeah. He was my best friend. Well...I loved him. We couldn't...you know...be together. I was married, he was married...he was a lot older than me...and now..." Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed intently, trying hard not to cry again. "When I found him, he was so pale. Lying in a pool of blood..."

Iroh flinched.

"I tried to heal him. I screamed for help. His wife found us, but...it was too late. He...he told me he loved me, and then...he died." She rubbed her eyes, trying to stop the tears by force.

Iroh took her hand. "I know he was grateful to have you at the end."

Luka grasped his hand with both of her hands, smiling at him, her eyes red and sad but thankful. His earthy scent was comforting. Her stomach flipped as he placed his hand on her cheek, and she nuzzled it receptively. She looked deeply into those amber eyes again, seeing her own reflection.

There was a knock at the door. They both started, and Iroh closed his eyes and chuckled.

"Please, excuse me." He stood, then made his way to the door, greeting his new guest heartily. "Quon! Good morning, my friend. What can I do for you today?"

"Good morning, Mushi! I thought I'd stop by and tell you the good news—we're opening a new shop on the south side of the ring, and I want you to oversee its development. We're going to make another fortune, you and I!" Quon slapped Iroh on his shoulder, laughing jovially.

Luka began to gather her things. She cleaned the table as she went, stacking plates and cups and resealing the jar of pickled starpeaches.

Iroh eyed her curiously. "That is wonderful news. I already have colors in mind! Ah, Quon, please let me introduce you to someone. Luka?"

"Hm?" She joined her host at the door, smiling at the man on the other side of the threshold.

"Luka, this is my friend and business partner, Quon." Iroh turned to the man in the doorway. "Quon, this is my new friend, Luka."

"A pleasure, my lady Luka." Quon's gentlemanly bow took Luka by surprise. She wasn't used to being treated so politely by a man of high society.

She returned the gesture, bowing low in deference to his status. "It is my honor, Master Quon."

"You're very kind." Quon turned to Iroh. "I'm sorry if I've interrupted your breakfast. I can come back later to discuss the specifics, if you'd prefer?"

Iroh opened his mouth to reply, but Luka beat him to it. "No! No. That's okay. I was just getting ready to leave." She turned to the older man beside her. "Breakfast was delicious. I hope I'll see you again soon, Mushi." She kissed Iroh on the cheek and slipped out the door.

Neither man could see the huge grin on her face as she left.


End file.
